To Improve is to Change
by Arodwen-Ail
Summary: The Ministry of Magic remains stagnated - but one investigation changes everything. Rated M for Violence and Coarse Language.


Prologue: The Student

In a dorm in a hall there lived a man. Not a shared dorm, filled with the ends of pizza crusts and an rotting smell. Nor yet a dingy, old dorm, with a broken hanging lamp and drafty windows: it was a modern-dorm, and that meant overwhelming utilitarianism.

It had a perfectly rectangular door like an office building, painted blue, with a shiny silver knob on the exact left-of-middle. The door opened onto a small rectangular room shaped like a very short tunnel without smoke (it wasn't tolerated in the building, anyway), with beige-painted walls, and a floor thinly carpeted, provided with an uncomfortable desk chair, and no pegs for hats or coats.

In this particular desk chair, a boy woke with a start, hurriedly snatched up his pencil from where it had threatened to fall from his ear. Holding it with his finger and thumb, he moved to scribble the words _Terrence Young_ in his usual loopy script, allowing himself a moment of respite from his hard work to swing his legs onto the desk and lean back, replacing the pencil in his hand with a steak knife and poking at his half-eaten dinner.

At the sound of shuffling and whispers Terrence cocked his head to one side and tried to listen more closely - the sound of people trying to be quiet, especially when sneaking towards you - is always suspicious*. Terrence tried in vain to continue doing his work, but his sense of curiosity overpowered his work ethic and, carefully, he made his way over to the door. Terrence leaned one ear against it, but unfortunately for him, the whispers had stopped, so he couldn't pick up what they were saying.

Even more unfortunately, the footsteps had stopped too. Right in front of his matte metal door. He knew the door was locked, but even so, he drew back to the side of it, ready to avoid or surprise whatever humiliation his roommates had cooked up for young Terrence.

He heard a single whisper more, indecipherable in its quietness but apparently effective nonetheless, because as if by magic, nub in the center of his doorknob pooped out with an audible click, leaving it unlocked. Terrence suddenly became very suspicious - they most certainly didn't use lockpicks, and they didn't even have a key. Besides - he would have heard the sound of the key scraping into the hole. He may not have heard what the man - yes - man, not young man, and definitely not boy - had said, but he could certainly give a good enough guess.

_Alohomora_. The word brought forth images of dank corridors, lofty towers, and dank dungeons. Of stairs that would take you a different place on a Friday than on a Tuesday, and of warm fireplaces crackling on a cold winter's day. Images of home. Home at least, for the best three years of his life.

Before he could continue a train of thought that was ill-advised, given current circumstances, the door was pushed open, and a man in dark cowls strode into the room, a dark wooden stick raised up in anger. In a moment of animalistic instinct, Terrence's wiry body was flooded with adrenaline, and he just swung, the tip of the serrated knife he was holding catching his adversary underneath the jaw, calling forth a spray of crimson red that covered Terrence's arm, and the man's robes.

The man in question staggered backwards into the hallway, dropping his wand to clutch in futility at his throat, as Terrence made a soft keening sound with his throat, which eventually manifested as "Oh God, Oh God!"

He hadn't meant to kill the man, but there was no time for that now - there were more men in cloaks, and now their own wooden sticks were raised at him. Grabbing the late-man's wand, he dashed back inside, and as he did so, he fired off the only spell he could think of that might work at the next man, who was about to follow him back into his room - Terrence made a violent slashing movement down with the wand, as though he was slicing through the air this time, instead of a man's neck - and yelled "REDUCTO!", closing his eyes in fear at what he's just done, as the pulp that used to be a man's head was reduced to a red smear of the wall opposite, reminiscent of so much chunky salsa.

He quickly shut the door behind him, locking it. He knew it wouldn't hold, but he was running on self-preservation right now. He knew there was no way out - the window was too small, not to mention the fact that his room was on the sixty feet up. There was nothing for it. He stood behind the door, facing it, ready to let off another curse the moment the door unlocked again and hit whatever poor sod was doing so.

Too late, Terrence realised his mistake. The door belted inwards and took him in the chest, knocking his backwards onto the hard floor as he felt his ribs crack like pieces of tinder in a hurricane. Several more men - and a woman, he noted, though why it mattered at a time like this was beyond him.

Dazed as he was, he smiled weakly back up at them as one of their number waved his wand in a sickening movement. Pure pain filled him, his bones grinding themselves into one another, every nerve in his body aflame, every muscle twitching - his very soul felt like it was screaming in pain.

When it stopped though, his mind was clear of confusion, the pain having pushed all such thoughts away. A few black spots started to appear in his sight however, as the weight on top of him made it hard to breathe. The one who'd tortured lifted his wand before, and his Terrence's mind began running on a single thought:

_"Oh Shit, Oh Shit shit shit shit Shit Fuck FUCK!" _

And then he saw nothing.

*Unless you are living with the Weasley twins. Then it is merely routine.

A/N My first piece of FanFiction here, so I hope you enjoy it - reviews are very much appreciated, as is any (constructive!) criticism or critique. The cliffie of course, is intentional, but I'm already working on the next chapter - which will be longer, I promise - this was just the prologue.

EDIT: Forgot to reformat everything... fixed now.


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